His and Hers
by not-into-cliches
Summary: The war rages on. Roles are mixed, lines blurred. She is his, captured and bought. Yet there is something that makes him hers.
1. Chapter 1

She sighed as she stretched out on the soft cream, silk sheets that encompassed her. Lifting her heavy down comforter from her silk-clad body, she stretched. She looked over at her night table where her clock and a small box holding her everyday pearl earrings were. As per usual, there was an emerald green box with a silver ribbon on it. She remembered when she was first brought here. She was such an ungrateful brat. She fought everything he did for her. She was strong and proud. When she saw his satisfied smirk when he bought her from the snatchers she had vowed to deny him anything, to be as stubborn as could be. She would rather die than serve him. When she had been first put on the market, bid on, and then sold, she imagined being used as a slave, to be shown off as a trophy. The brain of the golden trio serving a death eater, that was why she was kept alive instead of killed like many of the other order members when Voldemort took over. It was fitting that Voldemort's right hand man would get to keep Harry Potter's right-hand girl. She had given herself up so that Harry and Ron could get away, to keep on their hunt for the horcruxes. As far as she knew, they were still alive. It had been two years since her capture, and she was being treated like a queen here. She reached for the box, and as always, it had a heavy weight to it. She opened it: a new book for her budding library.

When she had first been brought to Draco Malfoy's manor, she noticed that it lacked the gloomy décor of his parents. His manor was statelier, and more of a traditional manor, painted with cream colors however accented with silver and light emerald instead of the traditional gold and blush. She had been given a room in the same second-floor wing on as Malfoy's however their rooms were separated by his upstairs study, the bedrooms of his two guards, and a library which he had built especially for her. The library had a stair case that lead down to the original library on the first floor which was adjacent to his office where he spent most of his day. The upstairs part of the library, her part, was mostly empty when she arrived. He had stocked it with the books he had often seen her reading at Hogwarts. Now however it had changed. He had given her at least one book every day. He knew that if he had given her gifts of expensive clothes and shoes she would have walked them to his study, and have thrown them in the fire place in front of him. However he knew her love for books; everyone at Hogwarts did. He knew she wouldn't burn a book. So reluctantly she accepted the gifts every day.

After scanning the book and writing a note as to where she wanted to organize it in her library, she lifted a small bell on the night stand. A maid appeared from outside her door. Malfoy surprisingly had given clothes to all of his house elves and instead had bought many other captured Order members to be the servants of his household. While they still had an undesirable life in servitude, he never beat them, gave them all a warm bed and a healthy meal three times a day, and had so many servants that each one only had one small mundane task. She asked her to draw a bath.

Hermione, proud and defiant would never have accepted the gifts given to her by Malfoy, nor would she have indulged in the luxuries he had provided her. But one night after a month of her defiance, he barged into her room.

"Do you not understand how well off you are here?" he stated unnervingly calm.

"Do you not understand I would rather fight or be beaten or starved, or taken advantage of than be treated well while so many others suffer," she gasped.

"Oh, trust me Granger, I know you would. You're insufferable. You're stubborn. You're noble. You're a martyr. But if you die, if you leave, if you deny yourself the luxuries that I provide, than the 500 servants I have bought will be useless to me. I would sell them back into slavery. They would be bought by masters less kind than me. I would fill my manner with house elves instead. Would you like that? You would martyr yourself and all these people would suffer due to you stubbornness."

After that day, she hated him. He sent a letter inviting her to dinner every night and every night she would refuse. Her emerald boxes filled with books would remain unopened. Her closet was stocked with the most expensive fashion and robes, yet she would only wear the most humble of shirts and jeans. Two months passed this way until he had entered her room again one afternoon.

"Why, Granger, why do you do this?" He was less calm this time

"I do not want your gifts or your money, money that was made from the injury and deaths of the people I loved." She whispered.

"That money goes to my family. My money is from Malfoy industries alone."

"Why do you do this? Why do you treat me so? I thought you hated me. I want you to hate me!" She burst. He raised an eyebrow, and turn to leave. As he was reaching for the handles of the double doors she screamed in tears, "Why Malfoy?"

He barely glanced behind him as he calmly stated: "Because, Hermione, you deserve the world."

That night everything had changed. She went to dinner with him. She wore the clothes he bought for her. She even accepted his gifts. At times she would get a spark of her old defiance, but she calmed herself by saying she could gather information, or even turn Malfoy if she was given the chance. She could read up on spells or charms or anything that could help Harry defeat Voldemort. She would store it in her mind so that she would remember it when, or if, she ever saw Harry again. She would ask for information. She had to validate her luxury otherwise she would go mad from sitting idle.

After sitting in her warm claw-foot bathtub filled to the brim with soothing oils and soft bubbles, she emerged, dried off, and chose a simple outfit of jeans and a silk white top with a rose cardigan. She sat at her vanity putting on her jewelry when Malfoy entered. She hardly glanced up when he came in. He walked to her night table and look at the note that displayed where the book would be placed in her library.

"You'd put this in Healing? I thought it would be filed under Defense? Or maybe even Potions?"

"Defense is pre-attack. These are about post attacks. It's healing." She said wantonly.

"Hmmm. It is your library."

He had remained much the same since school. He was tall, handsome, and had an air about him that caused many to fear him. His icy grey eyes pierced through anyone they fell upon, yet his hair look soft now that his white-blonde locks were no longer cemented back but instead left to fall in an tousled manner to his eyebrows. There was something that was different about him. Like the young order members, he tortured himself night and day with personal training. His lean quidditch-built muscles turned thicker, and his build was much more fearsome. In a time when children were robbed from their freedoms to fight, he, like many other students trained so that their bodies could match their older opponents where their minds could not.

She too had toned. Her golden skin and hair contrasted deeply with his pale complexion, as did his height of 6'2'' with her stature of 5'4''. However they were equals in wit and intelligence. Thus their dinners together were filled with stimulating conversations and heated debates. They were careful not to get to personal otherwise they would offend the other. If Malfoy were offended, he would cause the whole house agony. If Hermione were to be offended, she would cause Malfoy agony.

"Malfoy, I know you didn't come here to see where I wanted to put this book. Out with it."

"I have some business in Diagon Alley today. I wanted to see if you would come with me."

"Why would I come? You know I hate the changes made there. Its so bleak and depressing. Nothing like the vendor lined streets that contributed to the splendor of the small cozy shops." She retorted.

"I know, but I had hoped you would do it as a favor to me. I have to meet an associate for lunch. He is bringing his wife and he expects me to bring a date," He admitted.

"Pansy not available? You know she dotes on you. Even though her husband is too thick to notice," she replied.

"Please do not talk about Blaise that way. You know he's my best mate. And no, she's not available. Too busy looking planning their nursery. So, please, Hermione, will you come with me?" he genuinely asked.

"Only if we get to go to Flourish and Boltts," she demanded

"Done."

He walked over to her closet and looked through her outfits. He pulled out a black pencil skirt and a grey silk top. "I'm not changing Draco."

"Yes, Granger you are." The look in his eyes said it all. She grabbed the clothes and walked to the bathroom to change. When she came out, he had selected a pearl necklace to wear and a matching pair of black velvet pumps with pearl detailing. She put both on without complaint. She would make him buy her as many books as they both could carry for her compliance. He had her heavy travelling cloak trimmed with black white fur. To her quizzical look he replied: "it's rather chilly even for this late in March."

With that they walked down the grand staircase, bid farewell to their servants, and apparated to Diagon Alley. As they left, a barn owl was arriving to Hermione's window carrying a letter with familiar jagged scrawl.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Hi all, I was really surprised at the number of emails I received right after posting this. I haven't written a fanfiction since I was 16, and I'm not quite used to it. For those who favorited and put my story on alert, I thank you so much. I put an M rating on it just in case, however I'm not going to get graphic. So if you were looking for porn, sorry to disappoint. As always, I own nothing you recognize. Again thank you for your support and here is the next chapter. Best, xx M

As always, Malfoy's associates bored her. He was a young business man new to Malfoy Industries. His date was a frail, blonde, petite thing. Rarely talked or showed emotion. She nibbled on her food like a bird, barely touching most of it. Through most of the meeting, Hermione mostly watched everyone else around her. She noted the many stares she received. It was put in the Prophet that she was now owned by Malfoy. Rita Skeeter wrote a false story portraying a heated sexual affair that took place in Hogwarts and how Malfoy bought her to keep her as his play thing. She later retracted the story after so many Death Eaters disgraced her for even thinking of a pureblood lying with a muggleborn. When Hermione would accompany Malfoy, people would stare, looking for any inkling of their relationship. While it was common knowledge that Malfoy owned her, no one really knew the conditions she lived in, and could only speculate.

As promised, Malfoy took her to Flourish and Boltts. Walking there, Hermione remained close to Malfoy to avoid the jeers and insults of passersby. While Hermione never paid any mind to their cruel words, Draco became infuriated and would only show his anger back at the Manor. Herminie's beloved bookshop was now very sparse. Death Eaters had forbidden many books to be sold if they deemed they would hurt their cause or nurture thinking that could oppose Voldemort. Yet Hermione was able to find 15 new books she wanted. Each time she placed a new book to the growing stack in Malfoy's arms, he made a cluck of disapproval, to which she responded by indicating the outfit she had worn for him. He had her books flooed back to her library where she would spend the day organizing her books by hand as she wasn't allowed a wand. They apparated back and Malfoy went to his study instead of his office to be closer to Hermione. He often went to see her when he wanted to take a break from his work, and she would run in and ask his opinion on something she was reading.

As much as she hated to admit it, he was excellent company to keep. Unlike Harry and Ron who often ignored her bored expressions when their conversations turned to Quidditch, Draco had been trained with proper etiquette in conversation. He kept her entertained, and he had read almost as many books as her which proved for many debates. She found he always gave sound advice, and he found that she always gave an honest opinion, no matter how cruel it could be. While she confined here, she might as well make the best of it. After the war had passed, one of them would be on the winning side and one on the losing. They each needed an alliance, someone to help them if they were to lose. She had the power as the best mate of the chosen one. He had power through his wealth. Though everyone was counting down the days until Harry would face the Dark Lord and this whole mess would be done with.

She was in her library, standing on a ladder to reach the high shelves of the bookcases when Malfoy sauntered in. "Busy?" he asked.

"Not as busy as you I'd assume," Just hoping he would let something slip.

He ignored her reply and instead gave a closer look at one of the books they had bought, "Poultices and Pregnancy: contraception, prevention, and expulsion?" he asked her.

"I figured that would go in healing, though my parents would probably scream if they saw me with a book like that. They would recommend it would go in dark arts," she chuckled under her breath.

"Granger, are you planning on having sex with anybody?" he asked in disbelief.

"That is where your mind would go!" she laughed. "Not currently, no. And if I were I already know simple contraception spells. As I'm sure you do as the 'Sex God of Slytherin'" she laughed louder.

"I wish I knew who gave me that nickname. I should like to hit them," at her raised brow he continued, "Gods know I only shagged less than half a dozen at school. You don't get my grades with endless nights with endless girls. Most of my time was spent in the library or in my room reading," laughing, remembering the rumors he would hear about himself.

"How charming," she replied sardonically.

"But really Granger, why do you have this book?"

"I know you're not that thick," at his look of intrigue she continued, "One day, Malfoy, and hopefully one day very soon, this war will end. And when it does and the Light reins over darkness I will need to find a job. Since I am unable to complete my schooling, I will need to read up on whatever field I decide to enter in."

"You're worried about a job. Now? When your friends are missing and your loved ones are in mortal danger. You're worried about a job? By gods, Granger, your priorities really are muddled," he taunted.

Her face turned red and her temper turned hot. "Why? Because I'm a mudblood?' She screamed as she stormed from the library.

He sighed and yelled after her, "Hermione! It was just a choice of words!" But she was already gone.

She went back to her room, closed, and locked the door. He didn't allow her a wand but he did allow her privacy via a lock. Leaning back against the door to claim her composure, she glanced up at the persistent clicking at the window. She saw a barn owl with a letter. She rarely got letters, and if she did they were usually already read. Malfoy allowed her to receive letters, but anything she sent out was read and usually taken. She opened the window and took the letter from the owl. It was Harry's handwriting. She pet the bird and whispered an apology for not having any food. He hooted and flew off. Tearing open the letter with fervent excitement and also a looming fear she scanned it. It was very short and coded as the letters they had received.

_Ms. Clearwater, _

_Penelope, we're very close. Only two more days until my Birthday. We anticipate seeing you at the party. You will have time to come wont you? I already know your answer. Hope all is well with your husband. _

_ Sincerely, Vernon Dudley. _

Two days would have to mean two horcruxes. She smiled knowing how close they had come. Two years ago they had only had 3 of the seven destroyed. She assumed they knew where they were if they were going to have a final battle soon, or as he called it: the party. He assumed she would be at the final battle. There would be no way in hell she would miss it. She would murder innocents to help Harry in his time of need. She laughed thinking how living with Malfoy had changed her, or her husband, as Harry coded. Like a husband, Malfoy kept a close eye on her, and kept her captive, yet he was not her husband, just her captor. She took the letter and placed it under the seat cushion of the velvet chair stationed by the fire place. She rang a bell that she kept there. When she came, Hermione opened one of the doors for a maid and ordered a fire. When the girl left, Hermione waited to hear if anyone was coming, locked her door, and started shredding the letter and placing bits in the fire. It wouldn't be tragic if it were found; however, Malfoy was her equal in intelligence. If she could break the code without even a second glace, she knew Malfoy would be able to do the same. He would lock her up and post guards at her door.

She stoked the fire a bit more until there were no traces of the letter. She sat down and stared at the golden red flames. They were the color of Ronald's hair. She smiled at her infatuation with him. However in the end, right before they were captured, they realized they were best friends, brother and sister. The affection they shared with solely platonic. Ron still had deep feelings for Lavender and she shared those feelings. Though Hermione didn't know where either was, she was sure they would be together after the war. As the flames grew longer, she thought of Ginny's long hair. Only she and Ron knew that Harry had given Ginny a ring right before Bill and Fluer's wedding. They planned to send for Ginny once she finished her schooling. She was unsure whether or not they had. Knowing Mrs. Weasley's attitude towards her only daughter, Hermione doubted it would have happened. She sighed again and though about all of her friends who she missed so much.

She was so engrossed in her thoughts and memories, that she didn't notice a persistent knocking on the door until Malfoy had magically unlocked it and came into the room. When she looked up and saw him there she shifted in her seat so she was angled away from him, and said "Leave."

He stopped where he stood. "Fine, but dinner will be served at 7."

"I'm not going," she retorted childishly.

"Merlin Hermione! It was a choice of words. I haven't called you a mudblood once since you got here," he pleaded, taking a step closer. He looked handsome in his all grey suit and white shirt.

Her look softened. She knew she was overreacting. However the quip about her friends dying and her seemingly idle enraged her. However revealing that she wasn't idle would stop the daily gifts of books and her access to his extensive library, both of which she depended on. She sighed, chuckled and nodded.

While Malfoy didn't uphold many of his family traditions and practices, there was one thing he did maintain: dining. There was never a casual dinner. There were always at least 3 courses, candlelight, and someone playing a violin or on the grand piano while they ate. He never ate alone. His associates would dine with him often, whenever Hermione wouldn't come down or he didn't have a different young lady over, which was very rare due to his busy life. Malfoy was never seen at dinner in anything less than a suit, and tonight was no exception. He had on a new crisp black suit, with a white button down underneath. He wore shoes that shined like wet ink. A maid had come to her room at Malfoy's request to select an outfit for her. She wore a simply black cocktail dress with nude pumps. She stuck to her usual pearl earrings and necklace.

When she entered the dining room, Malfoy was seated at the head of the table with his colleagues and advisors around him muttering about some business. When he saw her walk in, he simply said "leave us," and they packed up their papers and exited with a nod of acknowledgment to Hermione. "You look ravishing as always Granger," he said mockingly as he pulled the chair out for her. However there was something in the way his hands lingered on the sides of her chair, just brushing her shoulders. He waved his hand, two servants brought out glasses of wine, and two plates of bread, cheese, and grapes to start off.

"Thank you," Hermione said looking at the servants who placed the food in front of her.

"You don't have to thank them," he said over his glass of wine. "They have no choice."

Rolling her eyes, "Not all of us are spoiled, ungrateful brats Malfoy," she replied with a hint of a smile. When he replied with a rising of his eyebrows, she opted to change the subject. "Why don't you ever invite your colleagues to dine with us? I know they dine with you when I am not here? I wouldn't mind." He waited a moment and looked down at his now empty wine glass. Her glass too was empty. He waved for more wine to be poured; all while trying to avoid her stare. "Malfoy?"

He cleared his throat and said simply, "I don't want them distracted by you. You've seen the way they look at you. The way most men look at you. They are here for business, not to flirt with my ward."

"Hmph. Your ward. I see," she was taking the napkin off her lap and pushing her chair back when she felt a hand on her hand.

"Stay Hermione," he looked her right in the eye. "Please."

She looked at him. He looked genuinely interested in her staying. She sat back down. Dinner went by rather pleasantly. They had delicious food, wine, and conversation. One thing she would never admit was that it wasn't just the conversation she enjoyed with Draco, it was also his etiquette. With Harry and Ron, it was rare that she didn't see the food being chewed in their mouths. Draco rarely talked with food in his mouth. Another thing neither of them would admit: in candlelight, they both really did look ravishing.

After dinner, Hermione and Draco got up to head up stairs. As they were nearing her door, he looked over at her and asked, "Come to my study for some fire whiskey before bed."

He had discovered her liking to fire whiskey when he had been in his study alone, sitting in his leather chair by the fire. She had come in from the library and sat down. She had joked about his bad manners for not asking her to join him. He was shocked when he saw her down the fire whiskey without wincing. It was rare for a girl to drink like a man, but Hermione had endured some terrible conditions. Her throat burning was nothing compared to what she had experienced.

She simply smiled and nodded. She had already drunk a lot of wine, but she figured the excess of alcohol would help her sleep well. Since her letter from Harry, her mind had been racing with thoughts of her friends. She did not want to have nightmares about them, which happened often since she came to the manor.

He opened the door to his study. It was a masculine room with a desk, two book cases, and two leather chairs facing the large fire place that seemed to occupy every room. She walked in and sat down on one of the leather chairs while she waited for him to bring over the fire whiskey. They often ended their nights like this, drinking and being lulled to drowsiness by the fire. As he brought her glass over, she couldn't help but wonder why he had chosen her, out of all the captured witches. She hadn't realized it, but she was talking out loud.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Hmmm?" she replied, unaware she had said anything at all.

"Why did I pick you?" he repeated. "Is that what you want to know?" She looked surprised. She highly doubted he would give her a good reason. She simply nodded. He downed his glass and looked at the fire. She continued to stare at him. After a brief pause he got up to get himself more fire whiskey. As he was pouring his glass he said. "You have to know. Surely you have to know."

She turned around in her chair and looked behind herself at him. He was once again staring at the fire place. "Know what?" she encouraged.

He walked over to the fireplace, but did not sit down. He stood next to the mantel. He closed his eyes. "Merlin Hermione," he sighed. He closed his eyes and braced his hand on the mantel. He looked up at her. "I love you. I don't think I could make it more clear. I bought this house, I bought the servants, I bought everything for you. Everything I do, I do for you Hermione."

Stunned, she got up from her chair and walked behind it to go get more fire whiskey. The only thing she could think to say was, "but isn't that against everything you believe?"

"Everything I believe? Everything I believe?" He barked, "That is everything I was raised to believe. But I would have thought my beliefs were quite clear. I'm remaining as neutral as I can to this whole war Hermione. I cannot wait until it is over." At her silence he drained his glass once more. He was coming over to get more. As he reached for the liquor, she placed a shaking hand on his. He looked at her. She was staring right at him. He took his hand off the bottle and placed it on her cheek. She leaned into his hand.

She had barely managed to whisper, "Draco," before his lips were crashing down on hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he lifted her up to carry her to his bedroom.

His room was much like hers, except his had more masculine touches with his emerald and silver bedding and décor. He lay her down on the plush bed and covered her with himself never breaking their kiss. He was unsure of what she was thinking until he felt her hands unbuttoning his shirt. Taking that as his cue, he began kissing down her neck as his hands were unzipping her dress. He kissed, licked, and nipped at her neck, collarbone, and finally the soft flesh of her breasts. They continued to undress each other until he was down to his silk boxers, and she was only wearing her black lace panties and her pearl necklace.

Again he was unsure if she wanted to continue until he felt her palming his hardness. He shivered at her touch. She began to pull down his boxers which he kicked off as he began to pull off her panties. As he positioned himself at her entrance, he looked into her eyes, "Are you sure? I don't want you to do this because you pity me."

"Draco, I want you. Only you." And with that he thrust into her.

When they had simultaneously reached their climax he collapsed on top of her. He rolled off of her and pulled her close to him. He lay on his back with his arms around her as she lay on her side with one arm draped over his toned stomach. Looking down, he saw a smile on her lips as her eyes closed and her breathing became heavy. He kissed her forehead just before he too dozed off to go to sleep.

She was right, she didn't dream about her friends at all. She only dreamed about him.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi All, I know you all probably want to smack me for taking so long to update. I just moved into a new apartment, started dating a new guy, started and finished an internship. My life hasn't exactly had room for writing. I know youre going to really want to smack me once you see that this chapter is much shorter. The next one will be much juicer. Promise. I just wanted to let you all know I'm not dead, I'm not giving up, and I'll try to be better with the next chapters. Enjoy!

They fell into a steady routine. They would wake up together, dine together, spend almost the whole day together, and finally fall into bed at the end of the day together. She would no longer spend so much time alone in the library. Instead, she would select her book and bring it into his study or office to read it next to him. He no longer left the room without telling her, and he rarely left the room without her. The only time they spent apart was in the morning, during her daily bubble bath, during which he would meet with his associates. He had Blaise take over much of the business meetings so that he could spend much more time with Hermione.

At times Blaise would stop by to discuss a few points on business, however Malfoy limited those meetings when one ran too long and Hermione went to sleep without him. He'd sworn to her that he would never come to her without her permission, and that if she ever said to stop, he would always listen. He'd just gotten her to trust him. He was too nervous to take that trust for granted. At this particular meeting with Blaise, Draco was notified with an unhappy client of Malfoy Industries. Normally, these clients would be appeased easily. However this individual was a backer and patron of Malfoy Industries for years and was used to dealing specifically with Lucius Malfoy. As a respect to his continuous support of the Malfoy family, he expected to only meet with a Malfoy. Being denied such an courtesy was considered an insult to his commitment.

Draco looked at his leather bound planner than Hermione had helped him pick out during one of their many trips to Diagon Alley. He and Hermione had yet to spend more than a few hours apart in three months, since the first night they had spent together. He groaned thinking about the upcoming trip he would be making. He would have to travel all the way to Romania. If he would be making the trip to Romania, he would have other errands to complete while he was there. His father usually took around five days when he went to Romania, and Draco assumed his trip would take just as long.

His thoughts were interrupted by a light tapping on the door to his study. Instantly a smile reached his face, yet he hated to give her bad news. "Come in" he said. He closed his planner and placed it in his top drawer when she walked in.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked, hesitantly opening one of the double doors. As he shook his head no, she entered more confidently, strode over to where he was sitting, and planted a kiss on his lips. "How's work going," she asked, walking behind his chair, reaching below the high back, and began massaging his shoulders.

He moaned as he leaned into her touch. He closed his eyes and started "Hermione, I need to go away for a few days,"

He was expecting fury, sadness, yelling, or sobbing. Instead, she didn't stop her movements on his knotted shoulders, and simply asked, "For how long?"

"Five days, give or take a day."

"Will any visitors be coming by the manor while you're gone?"

He knew she always got nervous without him around other wizards, especially because she had no wand. "I'll have Blaise stop by, when there are the usual visitors," at her raised eyebrow he added, "I'll post some extra guards in this wing."

"I'm not worried about that. I'm worried about Blaise's 8 month pregnant wife Pansy sitting at home, alone, because your making her husband watch your ward."

"He's my employee."

"And your best mate. Let him stay home with his wife."

"Once the baby is born he can take off as much time as possible. And you are more than my ward, Hermione Jean Granger."

She chuckled at the use of her full name. "When will you leave?"

"Tomorrow morning, around quarter after 7."

"Good, we still have tonight," she smirked. With that he jumped from his chair, swooped her up bridal style, and carried her to his room, all while she was giggling nonstop. They had dinner delivered to them in bed.

The next morning she woke up with a shiver. She was alone. The window was open. An owl was perched on the nightstand with a letter in his beak.


	4. Chapter 4

Hi all, once again sorry for the long hiatus. One day I'll get better at this updating business! Hope everyone is well and those on the east coast are safe from Sandy.

"_Ms. Clearwater, _

_Penelope, we only need one more day. Do you know if Rowina Ravenclaw left something valuable at our last party? Do you also know how to clean up after something like that? I believe there may be another party with a snake involved. _

_Hope to see you soon._

_Sincerely, Vernon Dudley."_

Harry and Ron only had one horcrux left, the snake Voldemort kept with him, Nagini, was another horcrux, and they were looking for something that might have belonged to Rowina Ravenclaw. As like before, she ordered a maid to start up a fire. As the maid was stoking the fire, she heard a loud bang coming from Draco's office. Startled, she dropped the letter and ran to his room. When she got there she saw a very dusty Blaise emerging from the fireplace. He did a quick Scourgify on himself and smiled when he saw Hermione in the doorway.

"Hermione, so good to see you" he said as he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.

"Blaise, good of you to come," she replied and returned his kiss. "How's Pansy doing?"

"Went to the mediwitch yesterday. Everything looks healthy. She's due any day."

"That's wonderful, cannot wait to see the new addition to your family."

Blaise looked around the room, "Looks so much cheerier since you got here Hermione."

Desperate to change the subject to anything but her capture she started, "When shall I be expecting your business associates?"

He cleared his throat, "about 30 minutes. I wanted to come see how you were doing. Drake wants a full report," he ended with a grin thinking of his best mate's love of this fiery witch.

"Of course he does," she replied with roll of her eyes and a grin on her face. She called for a maid to bring them tea, scones, and to light a fire. As the maid set the table for tea, she quickly remembered the letter which she had so stupidly dropped in plain sight. "Blaise, would you excuse me for a moment, I do believe I left the water running in my room," He nodded politely as she left the room. When she got to her room she noticed the letter was in the exact place she had left it. She picked it up and tossed it in the now roaring fire. Before heading back to Draco's room she quickly scribbled a reply to Harry and Ron.

"Vernon,

She always has that lovely crown upon her head, but she never can keep track of it. However I believe she lost it at a party a while ago. As for cleaning up for the party, try something goblin made, or if you need something more powerful, try a bit of venom from a basilisk, that should do the trick.

Stay Well,

Penelope"

Hermione thought it would be too risky to send the letter while Blaise was still in the house, so she folded it up and put it into the pocket of the robe she wore over her dress. She returned to Blaise with an apologetic smile, and they sat and had a lovely tea while they waited for Draco's associates to arrive.

"You know, I used to hate Astoria Greengrass for ripping Drake's heart out, but he's so much happier with you," He said nonchalantly as he sipped his tea.

Hermione raised a brow, "What do you mean broke his heart, Draco had told me that he had dumped her,"

"Oh no, she dumped him, something about the way he treated her or something. I'm unsure, but Draco was heartbroken for months, barely left his room,"

Just as she was about to ask more, the front door bell rang. Blaise looked at Hermione for direction. She told him she would be in the library and to come get her once business was done. He nodded to her and left.

Hermione went to her section of the library to start reading. She picked up a book on infant witches and wizards, seeing as Draco was going to be a godfather soon to the little baby Zambini. She needed to wrap her mind around the idea that Draco had actually lied to her, and that he had been dumped. If he hadn't have been, would she still be here, or… she shivered at the thought of where she could've been. Her reading was interrupted when Blaise burst into the library, "Hermione! I must go! Pansy is having her baby now! Everyone already left; it's just you here,"

"Blaise congratulations! Do you need anything?"

"No! I just flooed Draco, he's coming home this afternoon. Be safe Hermione!"

"Good luck!"

Before she heard the burst of flames in the fire place she heard him yell a triumphant, "I'm going to be a dad" which brought a smile to her face.

But then she was left alone. She rushed up to her room and summoned an owl, and sent Harry his letter. She watched the owl until he was out of sight. Next she went to Draco's room. Along the fireplace mantel there were many pictures, a few of him and Blaise and Pansy, a few of him and his mother, many of him and Hermione, but there was one, almost hidden, of him and Astoria. She picked up the picture, angry that she hadn't noticed it before. Even the most non-jealous woman would be envious of Astoria. They're standing side by side in a park, when Draco leans and places a kiss on her cheek and smiles while he does it. They both look so happy, so inlove. Hermione felt tears in her eyes. Before she could let them drop, she heard a burst of flames in Draco's study. Being the courageous Gryffindor that she is, she went to ask Draco about Astoria. She held the picture in her hands as she walked to the study.

When she walked in, he was behind his desk, talking intently with a guard. When they had seen her walk in, he dismissed the guard. She tried to summon a meek smile for him, however, he returned with a glare. "How was you—" she started, before she was interrupted

"How long have you been keeping correspondence with Potter?"

"Who said-?"

"Or is it your lover Weasly?!" he spat.

"Draco…"

"Did you ever even love me?"

"What are you…"

"Blimey Hermione, I have guards everywhere! Do you think they don't notice the when you leave a letter out?!"

"No I didn't think…"

"Didn't think what? That I'd care, that I'd mind, that I'd notice?!"

"No I just,"

"What, were you only sleeping with me for information, giving into me so I wouldn't notice that you were sneaking behind my back and pumping my enemy with information?! Using me like the little slut you are. You filthy little slut"

She was furious now, she stepped toward him and yelled, "Now listen here! My affections are genuine and don't you dare ever doubt them! Never speak to me that way again, you arse. Don't you dare ever accuse me of sleeping with you for information and using when youre the one using me!"

He stepped back, surprised, "What on earth are you talking about?"

"I know about you and Astoria. I know she broke your heart, I know you lied to me, I know everything." She pushed the picture in to his hands. As he was looking at it, she asked, "Did you ever even love me?"

As he was about to respond, she ran out of the door, slammed it behind her. She when she walked into her bedroom she slammed that door as well, for dramatic effect. She fell into her bed crying.

She remained that way until she fell asleep.

They remained separated the whole night.


End file.
